


The Time the Nephilim Got a Fan Club

by BloodyRose0753



Category: Diablo III
Genre: (Nephilim Fan Club), Auriel is president of the Nephilim Fan Club, Crack, Gen, Itherael is her Vice-President, Malthael is a pretentious dick, Pure Crack, The NFC, Tyrael just wants to know what's going on, but oddly sweet, kind of treated seriously
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2018-12-30 07:17:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12103554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodyRose0753/pseuds/BloodyRose0753
Summary: The Nephilim gains a fan club and a fallen angel that had just tried to kill her. Rathma give her patience.





	1. Chapter 1

It started out simple enough. With vague impressions of hope or insight coming at random times.

After defeating Diablo in the Silver Spire, Dusara the necromancer, noticed something that seemed a little… odd. Not odd in the sense of Belial’s mind games, but odd in the way random bursts of insight would just seem to hit at the worst times.

Approaching the gates of Westmarch with the surviving member of the horadrim, _he always wanted to be part of the sacred order now he is the last._ Fighting a swarm of Malthael’s reapers, _They follow Death he is their savior,_ cutting down his lieutenant, _he believed this best for all of creation._ Fighting Adria, _…. she is such a demon._

Pausing at that last brief spew of insight, it seemed a bit more vindictive. Her scythe cleaving through one of Adria's many arms as her blood golem crushed her skull. There was a brief silence before cheering started up.

“Seriously? What is going on?”

_Oh crap. Can she hear us? Oh crap, oh crap. What if Imperious finds out? Oops. Sorry Nephilim._

Dusara sighed rubbing her temples, as Eirena drifted up to her side. Hands grasping her staff the enchantress glared at the mangled corpse of their once ‘friend’.

“Who were you talking to?”

Dusara hummed in thought, turning towards her friend “I think I may have acquired a fan club.”

XxxxxX

Meanwhile in heaven a cluster of Angels sat around a mirror in glee. White and blue wings rustled in barely contained enthusiasm.

“Did you see how the nephilim just went VWOSH! And how her pet just went SQUELCH!”

“No wonder she beat Diablo! I'm sure she can beat Malthael, and save creation again!”

One Angel sat back wings fidgeting, as Auriel glided over. Placing a soothing hand on a member of her Choir.

“What is wrong, Asurael?”

Asurael stopped fiddling with the hem of their sleeves feeling the calming patience coming from the embodiment of hope. “It's just… I've been thinking.”

Auriel waited purple wings spreading out a bit further to give them privacy.

“What if we let the Nephilim deal with Malthael in a more prudent way?”

Auriel straightened wings flaring out slightly. “Oh?”

Taking courage Asurael continued, “What if we encouraged him to become human to take the plunge that Tyrael did. That way Malthael can see that humanity is really worth saving.”

Auriel paused considering the words of her fellow Angel. Before she could say anything a roaring cheer cut across the crystal room.

“The Nephilim is coming back here!”

Sighing she looked at Asurael and nodded briefly. “We shall see what happens, after all the humans need hope now more than ever.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If Dusara is going to be dealing with a telepathic fan club. Then she's at least having Lyndon around who won't judge her on her sarcasm. Because dealing with one archangel (Tyrael), who thought he could handle things was obviously not enough. Enter Imperious. In all of his glowy glory.

The second time Dusara entered the gates of the High Heavens, the brief flashes of insight and hope gave way to just a tidal wave of insight. Hope apparently had more important endeavors. And to be honest so did Dusara, like dealing with Imperious.

“I do _not care_ about the existence of Sanctuary, Nephilim.” Imperious continued imperiously, “However Malthael threatens all of creation, and _you must stop him._ ”

‘ _Really? How strange, it's almost as if he's being corrupted by the soulstone. **The same stone he stole.’**_

Dusara sighed rubbing her temples, as the Angels of Itherael choir sassed Imperious in the relative safety of the Nephilim’s mind. Lyndon raised a sardonic eyebrow at the Nephilim, “Fan Club being difficult today? You know when this is over they'll probably leave you alone.”

_‘How could that rouge doubt our loyalty? The Nephilim managed to rewrite the fate of creation! Based off of pure stubbornness! **Team Nephilim for life!!!’**_

The Necromancer sighed ruefully as obstinate cheering started up. Feeling like she just took a war hammer to the temple, with the dull throbbing making her head feel as if it's being split in two. “Now that, is something that I highly doubt.”

In a flare of bright yellow light, Imperious crashed into the gate blocking the path. Vanquishing eleven demons that were running away from the Nephilim and her companion. Lyndon watched in rapt amusement as Dusara fought to keep her composure, as The Archangel of Valor taunted the person responsible for slaughtering Diablo single handedly.

“Rathma give me patience.”

Lyndon snorted as Imperious made his abrupt departure. “How about an angel that doesn't cause problems?”

Dusara sent him a baleful look over her armored shoulder. “I think Itherael and Auriel are busy.”

Walking away as Lyndon choked on a laugh, Dusara could hear a brief merciful silence. Before a low whistle.

_‘Someone just got **burned!!’** The was an interlude, before ‘Hey guys, I think we’re included on the list of angels that cause problems.’_

“Rathma. Please. Give. Me. Patience.”

Rathma denied Dusara’s most humble request.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The showdown between Malthael and Dusara finally happened! And all that it gave her was a splintering migraine and major exasperation of Rathma, and of Angels.

The fight with Malthael went about as well as could be expected. But being one with the powers of death was a truly enlightening experience. The Nephilim had gained a _true_ understanding of death and her role in Sanctuary.

Then the previous embodiment of wisdom did something of questionable intelligence. He consumed the black soulstone.

It was such a questionable decision that even the fan club was stunned into silence. Before an annoyed groan ran through Dusara’s mind.

_Did he just… **yes…** but with the… **yes…** well, shit… **indeed.**_

Lyndon fired three consecutive shots through Malthael’s ethereal form. “Hey! If you could help that would be _wonderful_!”

Shaking herself from the conversation going on in her head, that she was _excluded_ from, the last Necromancer of Rathma slammed the blade of her scythe into the arcs of Malthael's wings. Cleaving the left wing from the Angel of Death's body. Malthael screamed, his voice carrying over the eternal battlegrounds of Pandemonium to the glorious high heavens.

Dusara let out an involuntary yelp when Death lashed out with a forceful throw. Sending the Nephilim crashing into a pillar on the farthest side of the room. Bracing herself as the former archangel rushed her, Dusara summoned one of her blood mages. Gritting her teeth as her life force powered her creation she watched anxiously as it clashed with Death.

Watching as blood red magic dripped from the skeletal fingers as her creation pushed the fallen angel back meter by meter. Re-summoning her blood golem behind the archangel, Dusara willed herself to keep moving to keep fighting. If she fell then all of Sanctuary would follow, in a torrent of death and misery till there was nothing left.

Clenching her teeth Dusara twirled her scythe, waiting for the right moment.

Rathma grant me patience.

Her lips tugged into a faint grim smile, as Malthael turned in time to block the downward pummel of the blood golem. The Necromancer rolled her tense shoulders, while she re-positioned her hands on the base of her scythe. Rolling out of the way as a red beam scorched through the air, singeing the the air above her head.

“You will not win Nephilim! I shall cleanse existence from _your kind!”_

Malthael raged against Dusara’s creations as she brought down the blade of her scythe. Missing the Fallen Angels _(“I am_ **enlightened** _Nephilim!” “Oh, is_ ** _that_** _what we're calling it. I was going to say that your understanding of death is **willfully ignorant** , but I suppose that the Ignorant are somehow enlightened. In a roundabout way.”) _wing, and instead ripping through the swishing robes covering his form _._

The enraged scream from Malthael was blocked out by the screeching joy from the Angels that had a front row seat to the fight.

_By all that is holy… did you guys see that!!! It was like **VWOOSH**! Take that you **poser**!_

Grunting with effort the Necromancer pressed forward, bringing her blade down on Malthael’s other wing. Watching dispassionately as the Angel flailed about as his grace was ripped from his form. And as the shards from the stone he ingested began to shoot across the room as all of the evils were released back onto Sanctuary. Again.

But the deafening cheer didn't dissipate, instead it just got louder. Rubbing her temples the priest of Rathma groaned in exhaustion, as she slid down the side of the pillar. Not looking up as her scoundrel friend all but collapsed next to her.

“I think we should go on vacation now. That should be our next adventure.” Dusara hummed in agreement as Lyndon continued expanding on the fantasy, “Some place sunny but not Caldeum. Too much damn sand. Tristram is out, for obvious reasons. And so is Westmarch.”

Cutting Lyndon off before he could insult Kormac, Dusara looked at the marksman from the corner of her eye. “How about a place that doesn't have to be saved.”

_Why not the heavens?_

_We can be amazing hosts!_

_We were in the category of saved, I think. Oh, and we have Imperious._

_That's not a selling point. There was a brief pause before, why does Imperious always mess up first impressions?_

_Maybe we should have Auriel do them from now on?_

_**“Rathma. Please. Give. Me. Strength.”** _

Dusara's humble request is now pending.

 


End file.
